I looked like shit.
Felt worse.
The curtains in my penthouse had stayed shut since I walked in a night ago. I hadn't touched the lights either... just the glow of my laptop in the dark when I had to work, and the flicker of streetlamps outside, like ghosts pacing on the windowsill.
I wasn't sleeping. Not really. Just passing out when my body couldn't take it anymore.
Aria haunted every inch of the silence.
And Ivan…
Well.
He never left.
The alcohol burned less now. Or maybe I'd just burned out the part of my throat that used to scream.
I drank straight from the bottle.
Didn't bother with a glass. Didn't bother pretending.
When I wasn't drinking, I was barking orders through the phone, stabbing out commands to terrified underlings who couldn't hear the fatigue in my voice, only the venom.
At some point, I'd handed my phone off to Niko and mumbled something about needing five minutes.
That was two hours ago.
I passed out on the bed.
